


Behave

by Zombiiewrites



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:50:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,560
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1407172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zombiiewrites/pseuds/Zombiiewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Destiel!College AU: Dean and Cas spend the morning in bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Behave

These are the mornings that Dean looks forward to. No early classes, no over-the-top fraternity initiations at dawn, no frantic text messages begging either of them to cover an early morning shift—just the two of them tangled in the sheets, exchanging tired smiles and little kisses.

"Goddamn, you look good like that, baby." Dean sits back on his heels and takes the opportunity to look down at the disheveled, beautiful mess that is Castiel. He’s wearing one of his shirts again—the Led Zeppelin one that’s so big on him it slips off his shoulder—and nothing else, save for those unimaginably tight boyshorts he’s stuffed into. Dean can already see him straining against them and the sight goes right to his own aching cock.

He let’s his eyes linger, licking his lips as he follows those jutting hipbones that act as marshallers directing him towards his destination, trailing them until they disappear behind the tight elastic waistband of his underwear. Cas has one hand resting against the part of his stomach that’s exposed and one palm pressed up against his forehead, fingers tangled in his own hair. Dean gives his flushed face a once over and has to bite his lower lip just to keep from moaning when he sees those pouty, pink lips parting and those unbelievably blue eyes staring back at him, hooded with lust but still bursting with adoration. 

"I swear—if you don’t touch me, I’m leaving you," Castiel breathes anxiously, barely able to keep a straight face when Dean chuckles lowly at his empty threat. As much as he likes when Dean slows down and appreciates the little things, he feels as though he is going to explode if he doesn’t get some attention or direction soon. 

Dean contemplates continuing his tortuously slow foreplay as payback for the snarky comment but ultimately takes pity on the squirming heap of sweating limbs currently drowning in his T-shirt beneath him.

"You’re lucky you’re cute," Dean grunts, shifting on top of him to press his knee right up against Castiel’s groin, applying just the right amount of pressure to make him arch up off of the bed. Dean smirks, thinking he is in total control up until Cas growls out two, little words. 

"Or what?" Dean quirks an eyebrow at that; the raw defiance in Castiel’s voice actually leaves him speechless for a second. He’s smiling but it’s anything but comforting; Castiel’s getting him so riled up and even though he knows it’s all on purpose, he plays his part seamlessly.

"Oh, Cas," Dean chuckles lowly with a shake of his head. "The last time you tested me, you couldn’t walk straight for a fucking week," he grits out into his ear, pulling his knee away which instantly makes Cas huff in frustration. "Do you want to apologize?" Dean gives him a chance to redeem himself and keeps his knee hovering nearby only to promptly pull away when he receives Castiel’s irrational retort.

"Make me," Cas is smirking now, well aware of how much of a little shit he’s being and even more aware of how crazy it’s making Dean; he swears he saw his eye twitch. Even though it’s his fault, Castiel glares when Dean sits back. He shifts and props himself up onto his elbows as if to make up for some of the distance between them now but Dean has other plans. 

Before Cas can register…well, much of anything, Dean tugging him down and flipping him over so that he is bent over across his lap, the pressure of Dean’s hand on the center of his back preventing him from moving. He doesn’t waste much time tugging down the his underwear just below the curve of his ass, exposing Cas’ perfectly round globes to the cool air of the dorm room. One hand grips Castiel’s jaw and lifts it so he isn’t staring at the floor but the wall in front of him. The other is already groping at his backside, alternating between rough, squeezing handfuls and soothing rubs. Without a warning, Dean presses his index and middle finger against Cas’ lips, barely waiting until their are parted before pushing past them. 

"No skin off my back if you don’t do a good job," Dean reminds when Cas takes his time sucking on his digits. The warning serves its purpose because barely a second passes before Cas’ tongue is swirling around his fingers and his head is bobbing, trying to take them deeper. "Good boy," Dean praises, a satisfied smirk plastered on his face. 

Castiel bites down when Dean “compliments” him and Dean reacts accordingly by bringing his hand down against his ass hard. “If you want to play this game, we’ll play this game, Angel,” Dean says in an eerily gentle tone, leaning in close to Castiel’s ear. Needless to say, Cas doesn’t back down. In fact, he makes it a habit of biting down about every ten seconds, each time harder than the last, until his ass is red and raw and Dean’s hand is stinging; Dean may be the one dishing out the penalty but Cas is still in control. 

Dean pulls his fingers from the other’s mouth abruptly and lifts Castiel up in the same manner before scooting back on the bed and tugging him down with him. They are pressed chest to chest now; Cas is on top of Dean but he is far from dominating the situation. Dean doesn’t kiss him, instead he just reaches behind the other, spreads his ass with one hand and shoves his two moistened fingers past the tight ring of Cas’ hole. The sudden intrusion causes Castiel to gasp and hum out a moan, dropping his forehead to Dean’s shoulder in an attempt to hide the satisfaction on his face from being treated so roughly. 

Dean is quick to correct that. He grips Cas’ chin tight with the hand that was previously parting his cheeks and forces him to look up. “Don’t get shy now, baby,” he teases, wriggling his fingers inside him but not thrusting—not yet, anyways. The moment he feels Cas’ body relax and push back, however, he doesn’t hold back. “I’m just getting started,” Dean whispers, eyes squinting and lips curling upwards.

The pace is slow and deep, each thrust of his fingers sinking in with enough force to push Cas’ body up, only to have it rock back with every withdraw. “So tight, Angel. You look like you’re about to come already. How are you going to handle getting fucked if you can’t even handle two fingers?” Dean patronizes, taking note of the way Cas is struggling to keep his composure through the gently-laced dirty talk. The flurry of different tones and emotions is as sporadic as the mounting pace of his thrusts, which he demonstrates just seconds later when Castiel’s eyes begin to wander. ”Don’t you dare look away from me,” Dean growls in a much harsher tone, digging his nails into Cas’ hip for good measure. This time there are no cocky comebacks or threatening stares, just blue hooded eyes staring right back at him.

Dean undoes him with every thrust, each of them strong and purposeful, destined to either graze or slam into the tiny bundle of nerves that make him tick. The fact that Cas is looking straight at him the entire time, moaning and gasping helplessly, just makes it that much heavier. It’s hard but Dean makes it a point to pull away every time he leans in to kiss him, knowing the only way to truly make someone as stubborn as Cas submit, is to deprive them of even the simplest affections. Dean only breaks the eye contact when he feels the smear of precum against his stomach and notices Castiel starting to grind against his stomach and back against his fingers—he figures now would be as good a time as any to test his obedience again. 

"You wanna’ kiss me, sweetheart?" Dean asks. His voice is so husky with lust by this point, it almost comes out as a purr. 

"Yeah," Cas sighs, his own fingers curling against Dean’s chest. 

"Beg for it." Dean smirks, realizing how absurd the demand is but knowing even before Cas opens his mouth that he’s going to cave. 

Cas barely even hesitates before leaning up next to Dean’s ear and telling him everything he wants to hear. “Please, Dean. I’ll be so good for you,” he pants out, spreading his legs a little wider so he can fuck himself on his fingers easier. “Please,” he sighs, voice hitching when he finds his own sweet spot using his lover’s thick digits. 

Dean slides his hand from Castiel’s hip and up his spine to tangle in his hair. He gives him a light tug to pull him away from his neck and holds him there for a moment before simultaneously nodding and releasing his grip on him. Cas’ lips are on his in a second, tongue tasting every inch of his mouth inside and out while he inhales jaggedly through his nose. Dean can tell from the feverish kiss that he has Cas exactly where he wants him. He kisses him back, nowhere near as frantically as Castiel is, but makes up for his lack of enthusiasm by letting Cas ride his fingers without interruption—that is, until he withdraws entirely.

The horrified look on Castiel’s face is almost enough to make Dean snort in amusement. To say he loves when Cas gets like this would be an understatement. As intense as it gets and as believable as Dean is at playing a complete asshole, it’s only fun until Cas stops enjoying himself. Keeping that in mind, he doesn’t leave him feeling empty for long.

”You’ve been running that mouth of yours all morning and all it’s gotten you is into trouble. I don’t want to hear a sound, Cas,” Dean lectures, keeping a stern face as he stares down at his lover from their switched positions. Dean is towering above him now, one hand pinning both of Castiel’s wrists above his head while the other hooks beneath one of the knees on either side of him. “Understood?” Dean tests him, expression hardening when Castiel’s lips part to speak and only relaxing when he instead gazes up at him with that needy stare and nods. 

With the order lingering between them, Dean shifts himself until the head of his cock is aligned with Castiel’s puckering hole. Having nearly no stimulation prior to this, save for a thorough application of lubrication, Dean swears he sees stars when he finally pushes into him, shamelessly watching as each inch of his massive shaft disappears into his boyfriend’s ass. “So fucking greedy, Cas,” Dean grunts, screwing his eyes shut once he’s pushed in to the hilt. 

Castiel swallows any moans that threaten to escape him once he finally feels Dean fill him. His entire body shudders from the pressure of holding it all in but the tight grip on his arms keep his movements limited. When the actual thrusting starts, his jaw goes slack but he only gasps in response to the hammering rhythm Dean immediately sets. Although he doesn’t outright acknowledge it, the longer Cas displays his dedication to the rules, the more lenient Dean becomes. 

It starts with Dean leaning down to kiss him, little pecks at first that gradually turn into deep, sloppy, open-mouthed kisses that leave both of them panting when they finally do part. Eventually, he releases the grip on Cas’ wrists too, only grinning when the younger man immediately latches onto him and rakes his nails down his back. Dean’s back arches at that but the grin on his face shows that he’s far from upset. If there is one thing Dean loves, it’s showing off the scratch marks on his back off when he changes at the on-campus gym. 

With Castiel on mute, the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room. Dean tests his lover relentlessly, plunging into him deeper and deeper, occasionally holding himself there when he’s balls deep and rolling his hips just to see if he can get him to break one more time. ”You gonna’ scream, baby?” Dean asks between heavy gulps, hearing the cracked moans that Cas is still trying to suppress. He leans forward, pressing Castiel’s bent knees to his chest and wraps both of his thick arms around him in a protective embrace. With the distance closed between them, their perspiring bodies grind against one another with each mounting thrust, the new position giving Dean the perfect amount of leverage to pull Cas into his quick thrusts until he finally takes pity on him. 

"Moan for me, baby," Dean finally whispers, eyes locking on Castiel’s face as it contorts with raw pleasure just before he lets out the most erotic noise—something between a whimper and a whine that shoots straight to Dean’s cock. "Hell yeah. That’s it. Let it out, Cas," Dean encourages, wrapping a hand around Castiel’s throat. not to apply pressure but just to feel the rumble in his Adam’s apple when he moans out again. 

When Cas finally gets his breathing under control, every other words out of his mouth is either “fuck” or “me”. Dean feeds off of that whining mess he’s reduced to when he’s getting close and seizes the opportunity by picking up the pace. 

"You gonna’ come on my cock, Cas? Yeah, baby?" Dean whispers, smiling breathlessly as Castiel just gasps and nods beneath him, his arms falling to his sides. He can’t even form a thought at that point, much less a response. "Come for me, Angel," Dean grunts, gnashing his teeth together when he feels Castiel clamping around him. The extra friction and the downright orgasmic sight of Cas squirming and climaxing beneath him is what ultimately sends Dean over the edge. 

He sits up and thrusts in two more times before spilling himself into Cas, watching as he pumps him full of come until it’s spilling out around his cock. “Son of a bitch,” Dean whispers, gripping one of Cas’ hips before pulling out of him slowly and watching as his seed oozes from his wrecked hole. Exhaling deeply, Dean leans forward and uses two fingers to coax the rest of his come out of his lover while pecking his lips tenderly. Cas squirms at the overstimulation but moans against Dean’s lips at the sensation of the warm liquid spilling out of him. 

They take their time coming down from their orgasms, groping and caressing and kissing lovingly until their chests are no longer heaving and their vision is no longer blurred. Dean plops down beside Castiel after a few minutes and stretches his legs, covering his eyes with his forearm and yawning. “You wear me out, kid,” he sighs, smiling even with his eyes covered. 

Castiel always bounces back so quickly. When Dean peels his arm away from his face, he sees him picking up their discarded clothes and tossing them in the hamper in the closet. “Up. We have class,” Cas mumbles, giving the sheets a tug with the intention of throwing them in the wash as well. They barely budge under Dean’s weight. 

"Make me," Dean replies with a grin, laughing when Castiel hurls a pillow his way.


End file.
